


Sparring

by millionstar



Category: Muse
Genre: Language, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-27
Updated: 2013-05-27
Packaged: 2017-12-13 02:30:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/818918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millionstar/pseuds/millionstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pure PWP in the wake of the recent "boxing" photos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sparring

Whose idea was it to bring in a trainer, anyway?

I know, I know. I shouldn't complain, after all keeping in shape is essential for us, especially seeing as how we're heading out on tour soon. But really, boxing? Let's just say it's not my preferred method of working out, but I'm a good sport so I keep my mouth shut and play along. After all, any excuse for Tom to bust out the camera and all, yeah?

It's all fun and games; Tom has tweeted a photo of me with a huge arse grin on my face that makes us all cackle loudly. It's Matt's turn now, so I excuse myself for a moment, bottle of water in hand.

I'm checking my phone for messages and wondering just how my hair looks right now after I've sweated so much when Matt grunts loudly, so loudly and wantonly that I have to look up.

And when I say I have to look up I mean my dick chose to stand up.

I know, I know.

But you have to understand; it's _Matt_ we're talking about here. Matt, who I have to say, is looking fucking fantastic today.

Not that I think of him like that or anything.

Except sometimes I do.

He's grunting again now as he continues to spar with the trainer and I can't seem to take my eyes off of him. Tom is blathering on and on about something but I can't seem to focus on what he's saying because now Matt is going at it with gusto and the way the tip of his tongue peeks out of the corner of his mouth shouldn't be making me this hard but I'll be damned if it's not and see what he does to me I can't even string a sentence together properly.

My eyes follow the ridiculous boxing glove he's wearing, up his arm until I spy a delicious looking bicep. I've always noticed Matt's arms, but today they're especially sexy, what with all the dirty grunting he's doing, not to mention the fact that they're coated in a thin sheen of sweat.

I force myself to turn to Tom and actually pay attention to what he's saying, simply because I can't stand up with the stiffy I'm currently sporting. Well, I could, but that would be a very bad thing.

After a couple hours and a fantastic lunch we part, Matt and I sharing a car back to town. The ride is quiet and peaceful, with random conversation about the album and the upcoming tour.

It's all very innocent until I cross my legs, running my hands down them.

That's when it happens.

Matt swerves off the road into a clearing, slams on the brakes and turns to me with a look in his eyes like none I've ever seen before. It's primal and base and steeped in lust and I know one undeniable truth now: having seen it, I'll never be able to forget it.

"Where are we?" I murmur, my eyes drawn to his mouth.

"It's hot in here."

"Yeah."

Matt clears his throat. "Really hot."

"Where are we, though?"

"No idea."

"Ah."

"Doesn't matter," he says easily, "because this is still going to happen isn't it?"

I nod, leaning in close as our our lips meet for the first time.

Christ, he's delicious. Sweet and wet and warm and Matt.

Our kiss deepens in intensity as we struggle to get into each others arms, the console clearly in our way. My hands tangle in his hair; well, they try to and I whimper as I remember that he's cut his hair and there's not much of it to hold onto now. He lifts his mouth and suddenly it's on my neck, biting and sucking it raw and I'll be damned if I'm not so hard it hurts now.

"In the back," I groan, Matt nodding in response.

The sight of us trying desperately to get into the backseat of the car at the same time is undoubtedly comical but we're both so turned on that it doesn't matter.

Nothing matters now but heat and skin and sweat and the two of us.

Somehow we manage it and he pounces into my arms. "Off, off, off," Matt hisses, pausing as he practically rips the t-shirt from my body in a surge of strength I wouldn't have thought he possessed. I do the same to him and gasp at the sight of him as I press his bare chest to my own, eager to feel as much of his sweat-soaked skin as I can. I lick the shell of his ear as we hold each other close, his fingernails digging into my back.

It's with a muttered "fuck" that he pushes me down into the seat and attacks me. His mouth is everywhere at once and when he licks one of my nipples I scream his name. I want him that much and it's then that I realize belatedly that I can still tangle my hands in his hair even though it's shorter than usual right now.

I reach for his bicep and hold onto it tightly, my fingers bruising that perfect skin that teased me earlier. I can't breathe; it's so hot and the air is so thick that it feels like we are drowning in it rather than breathing it.

Matt is sliding down my body at an alarming speed. "I gotta touch you, Dom."

I know how he's feeling and when he vocalizes it I press my palm against his crotch and groan. He feels so hot to the touch through his ridiculous shorts, so full against my hand. He raises his head and looks at me with dark eyes, ever so slightly pressing forward into my touch.

When I feel Matt's cock twitch against my fingers I nearly come on the spot.

"Fucking suck me," I command breathlessly, pushing his shorts down his legs. He awkwardly manages to kick them off and my sweet holy hell, that's his cock and it's like something from a fucking dream. It's perfect and thick and weeping for me; I moan loudly.

"Bossy," Matt mumbles, but I am able to spy a tight smile playing on his thin lips as he frees my dick from my shorts. He doesn't wait at all, he doesn't go slow, he swallows me instantly, his throat opening for me in a perfect sheath of heat and moisture and sin.

I scream, my hand grasping the window for purchase but unable to find any on the steamed up glass. All I can do is put my hands back on his hair and hold his head in place as it moves up and down because holy shit, Matt is blowing me like a fucking pro and I don't want him to stop ever.

"Take it," I grunt, "you fucking take it."

He lifts his mouth suddenly and I moan in protest as he moves back up my body. "Oh, I'll take it. And you'll fucking love it," he intones, my heart fluttering uncontrollably at the dominant tone of his voice.

Matt straddles me, his arm behind his back now to open himself up for me and I've never been more jealous of a set of fingers before in my life. I wonder how many he likes to use when he does this to himself... two, three? The thought is too much to bear so I lazily pull on my dick, shivering as the pleasure slowly builds between my legs.

He's watching me.

I allow my line of sight to follow his to where my dickhead is sliding up through my fist, a wet squelching sound accompanying my motions. The contrast is stunning, if I do say so myself; such dark, dripping wet skin held in a tight vice of tanned fingers is arousing to watch.

Does that make me sound conceited?

Do I fucking care?

No, especially as he spits in his palm and smacks my hand away so he can slick me up. No, especially as he sinks down onto me and clenches around me like he was born for it, for this express purpose alone in life.

No, especially as he arches his back and purrs as he begins to bounce atop me.

"Yes," I pant, doing my best to buck my hips upward into his body but it's hard to get leverage in this cramped car. In the end I simply have to let Matt lead the pace as he rides me harder than anyone ever has. My eyes widen as a certain truth becomes apparent in the back of my mind: he's done this before.

The fucker. He's been holding out on me.

Who was it, I wonder? What man earned the right to have him before I got the chance to?

Focus, Dom. More fucking, less thinking.

"Dom," he moans, swiveling his hips deliciously in a circle, "fucking wank me."

So I do; I lick both of my palms, determined to use both of my hands on him. I jerk him with one and use the palm of my other one to tease his slit, smearing the wetness therein all over his dickhead. It's hard to concentrate though, when my own erection is so perfectly sheathed and jerked by Matt's body.

A loud, wanton groan escapes his mouth when I pull him particularly tightly; he speeds up his movement.

"Whore," I pant, "you can't get enough, can you?"

He narrows his eyes and dives in for a rough kiss, biting my lower lip so hard that I'll definitely have a bruise there. The thought of him marking me in such a manner turns me on even more. He clenches around me and I scream again, sweat pouring down my face and chest as the car shakes uncontrollably.

"Closecloseclose," I cry out, my back arching as much as it can in the cramped seat. Matt grunts in response and pulls me as close to his body as possible, his own hand joining my two now as we wank him in tandem mercilessly.

"Christ," he gasps, "you're a dirty little fuck, Dom."

I grin into his mouth as he kisses me deeply again. My back screams out in protest as I try to arch up into him to no avail. In the end I give up, relaxing against the seat as Matt speeds us toward orgasm. It doesn't take either of us long; I can feel it building between my legs when my balls draw up tightly and my toes curl so hard that they hurt.

I shoot my load violently, spilling inside of him as his eyes widen. I ride it out, Matt's hips giving me a series of mind-blowing aftershocks that positively milk every bit of pleasure from my dick as possible.

He's still riding me hard when I open my eyes. I tighten my grip on his dick and tug it hard and fast, forcing myself to sit up so I can pant breathlessly into his ear:

"Dirty fucking comeslut. Do it."

Much to my delight and surprise, he does just that. He shudders and moans and grunts again, his body tightening and twisting around my own. I can't take my eyes off his dick as he empties it all over my chest, can't keep from rubbing my thumbs across his nipples, can't get enough of the filthy and divine sounds coming from his mouth.

It's sensory overload at its finest.

Eventually we still in each others arms. As he lies against me in a sweat-soaked heap of skin and sex I smile and unless I'm very much mistaken I can feel him smiling in kind against my bare shoulder. Then he speaks.

"Comeslut?"

I shrug, eyes mischevious. "Seemed appropriate at the time."

Matt laughs, his hand squeezing my shoulder. "What took us so long?"

"Does it matter?" I reply with a fondness I can no longer quell.

Matt sits up and gives me one of the sweetest kisses I've ever received.

"No. I reckon it doesn't. Dom?"

"Hmm?"

"We should do this boxing thing more often." 


End file.
